


Thicker Than Water

by ms_katonic



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Dark, Death Eaters, Fantasy, Gen, Happy Ending, Harry Potter - Freeform, Horror, House of Black, Magic, Malfoy Family, Slytherin, Suicide, family tensions, slythfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_katonic/pseuds/ms_katonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There was no storm raging on the night the House of Malfoy fell apart.</i> After Snape and Draco flee Hogwarts at the end of Half Blood Prince, Draco can't live with what he and his family have become.  However, the aftermath of Draco's choices lead his mother to make her own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thicker Than Water

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, way back in February, there was a project planned. And the lovely and talented [](http://lizardspots.insanejournal.com/profile)[**lizardspots**](http://lizardspots.insanejournal.com/) drew a picture for it, by the name of [A Cruce Salus](http://www.livejournal.com/community/pornish_pixies/350938.html). The project fell apart, and a while later, the art found its way on to [](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/pornish_pixies/profile)[**pornish_pixies**](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/pornish_pixies/), where the whole of fandom saw it and declared that it was ~~hot~~ ~~sexy~~ ~~the most erotic thing ever drawn~~ good. Including me. A little more time passed, and the [](http://www.insanejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=leeezardloff)[**leeezardloff**](http://www.insanejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=leeezardloff) project came into being. And I remembered this pic and decided that it was a shame we never got to hear the backstory. So I decided to write one. And here it is. Fully canon-compliant up to the end of Half-Blood Prince, it takes place just after Snape and Draco have fled Hogwarts. I hope you like it.

There was no storm raging on the night the House of Malfoy fell apart. No lightning to light the way to hell. No thunder to herald the end of a lineage. Just clear skies and the cold, indifferent light of the stars, a glittering reminder that the affairs of men matter not a whit to whatever higher powers rule this world.

So it was on the night two figures, both robed in black, but one tall and dark, and the other shorter and blond, Apparated in front of Malfoy Manor's doors. The smaller figure immediately fell to its knees, head in its hands. The taller one appeared behind a few minutes later, a certain nervous irritation in its manner betraying the lie behind the outward composure as it strode forward and hauled the other to his feet, dragging him towards the doors and thrusting him forward. The doors swung open, as the tall man had known they would, and he hurled his companion into the house without a second thought, watching impassively as the blond fell to the floor, sliding across the marble and coming to a rest in a tangle of robes and Persian carpet.

"Severus?" a woman called from a room just off the hallway. The taller man grunted an affirmative as he entered the manor, closing the doors behind him. Narcissa Malfoy emerged from her sitting room, wand in hand and normally immaculate hair and make-up dishevelled and carelessly applied.

"It's done," Severus growled. "The Vow's kept. Your son is safe, but it would be best if he did not return to Hogwarts."

Narcissa placed a hand to her mouth, looking as if she was about to burst into tears, but years of conditioning kept them in check. A Black never did anything as vulgar as cry in public, well, not unless it served their purpose, of course.

"Thank god," she whispered. She turned to her son, who was disentangling himself from the rug and staggering to his feet. "Draco, darling, are you alright?"

Draco stared at her, not trusting his composure to last if he spoke. Wordlessly, he stumbled towards her, pulling her to him as he buried his face in her hair. Closing his eyes, he tried to forget the horror of the night just gone, his mind retreating to more innocent times as he tried to maintain the illusion that his mother's arms could still banish all danger.  


* * *

  
_  
The sun blazed down as father and son lay by the river, ostensibly attempting to catch a fish for dinner, but without much success thus far. The nets lay empty, and the floats were still bobbing stubbornly on the surface of the water. Whatever lived in this river, it wasn't biting today. This did not bother either of them overmuch. There would be dinner tonight regardless of what they came home with, or didn't, and an afternoon spent doing very little apart from lie in the sunshine suited both Lucius and Draco Malfoy very well indeed._

_Draco closed his eyes, stretching out his arms and legs as he basked in the July heat. He liked these days out in the country with his father. Sometimes it was hiking, sometimes it was fishing, sometimes they'd take the tent and stay out for days on end. Draco never knew until his father met him outside the Manor with a bag that the House Elves had packed, and a Portkey to whisk them both off. But Draco didn't mind. Draco loved having adventures with his father. His father was one of the most powerful wizards ever, and could do anything he wanted. His father was a Malfoy and Malfoys were the best wizarding family anywhere, although Father had told him that he must always add 'apart from the Blacks of course' whenever his mother was around. Draco did not need telling why this was the case. Father wasn't scared of anyone or anything... apart from Mother._

_Which was why Draco had not a care in the world on that summer afternoon �" until the noise of a barking dog and several screaming children shattered the peace. Cursing under his breath, Lucius went straight for his wand, hastily casting a series of Disillusionment and Muggle-repellent charms to keep them both hidden. Draco crept closer to his father, hardly daring to breathe. Lucius was glaring into the distance, clearly seething at having his afternoon out disrupted by a bunch of Muggles. Sure enough, it was not long before a group of teenage Muggle boys, accompanied by a golden retriever, rounded the corner, all shouting and jostling. Draco drew next to his father, hiding his face as he curled up in his father's arms. Lucius for his part had drawn a protective arm around his son, curling his lip in thinly veiled disgust as the boys walked past, all making a ridiculously unnecessary amount of noise and shouting vulgar obscenities at each other. Draco put his hands over his ears, trying to shut it out. He'd always been sensitive to noise._

_Finally, they were gone, and Draco could finally relax again, sighing as he lay back against the riverbank. Lucius was still glaring in the direction the boys had gone in._

_"Who were they, Father?" Draco asked, rubbing his ears._

_"Muggles," said Lucius tersely, as he began gathering their things together. "Come, we had best go, it clearly isn't safe to linger. God, but those wretched creatures get everywhere. It's getting harder and harder to find a place that isn't crawling with them these days."_

_"Can't you magic them away?" said Draco, frowning. If Muggles couldn't use magic, what was stopping the wizards and witches from making them go away?_

_"Alas, there are laws against that sort of thing," said Lucius, voice heavy with regret. _

_"Why?" asked Draco._

_"Because the Wizengamot and Ministry in their infinite wisdom have decided that it would be best for all concerned if the Muggles did not know about us or that magic existed," Lucius replied, lip still curling. "Which means that, most regrettably, we can't use magic against them in order to teach them some manners." Getting to his feet, he offered a hand to Draco. "Come. Let's go home. Your mother will be waiting for us."_

_Later that night, as Narcissa was tucking him into bed, Draco voiced the thoughts that had been occupying his mind all afternoon and evening._

_"Mama, we're better and stronger than the Muggles, aren't we?"_

_"Of course we are, darling," Narcissa said as she straightened the hand-spun ivory-coloured sheets. "Why do you ask?" Why do you even need to ask, was the unspoken subtext._

_"So why can't we use magic against them?"_

_"Because it's illegal," said Narcissa, grimacing. _

_"What, even when they're being rude and annoying?"_

_"Even then," Narcissa sighed.  
Draco frowned, having trouble digesting this._

_"But we're Malfoys. We're powerful wizards, we should be able to do what we like. Why can't we use magic against them if they're in our way? You and Father always said that the Blacks and Malfoys bow to no one. But we're meant to let Muggles be nasty to us?"_

_Narcissa's pretty face was scowling even as he said this, and for a moment, Draco was afraid he'd said something wrong. But it turned out his mother's thinking ran along similar lines._

_"So the fools at the Ministry say," she snapped. Shaking her hair back, she sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "And while they will do a lot of things for your father and I, that is one law they will not repeal."_

_Draco, however, was not to be put off._

_"But we can't be the only ones who disagree, can we?"_

_Narcissa shook her head. "No. We are not."_

_"So why doesn't everyone who disagrees get together and make the Ministry change the law?"_

_Narcissa hesitated, seemingly unsure whether to speak or not. Then something decided her, and leaning closer to him, she lowered her voice to a whisper._

_"We tried once," she said softly. "Once, a few years ago, before you were born. Your father, my sister, other friends of ours. We came together when one wizard decided enough was enough and that it wasn't right for powerful wizards to cower in the dark, hiding from lesser beings when we should be ruling them. We came together, and for eleven years, we tried to change the world."_

_"And then what?" Draco whispered, wide-eyed._

_"Our master, the Dark Lord, fell," said Narcissa. "He was defeated when a curse backfired. To this day, we are still not sure what happened. But one day, he may return, to reunite us under his banner and lead us to glory. And then, Draco, then we'll cower before the Muggles no more!" Narcissa's eyes were alive with an unholy glee at the prospect. Draco felt his mother's enthusiasm fire up an answering flame in his own chest. One day, he thought fiercely. One day the Dark Lord would return. And when he did, Draco vowed there and then to fight alongside him, until the day that wizards never needed to worry about hiding from Muggles again.  
_

* * *

  
Draco staggered into the bathroom, flinging his school cloak aside as he fell to his knees beside the toilet. Unable to hold the memories of the night just gone at bay any longer, Draco leaned into the basin and vomited up the contents of his stomach, retching over and over again until there was nothing left to bring up, and not stopping even then, not until he was too worn out to do any more than cough and sob. Falling back, he flushed the outward evidence away, before crawling to the sink to wash his face.

He glanced up as he did so, blinking in surprise as his shock-addled brain tried to work out the identity of this mysterious stranger with the straggly blond hair, the nearly-grey skin and the purple-shadowed eyes that looked like they were staring straight into hell, and more to the point, how he'd ended up in Draco's private bathroom... at least until he remembered that the sink had a mirror above it and he was staring at his own reflection.  
_  
This is me, this is who I am now... and I don't even know myself.  
_  
Resting his head on the edge of the sink, Draco began to sob.  


* * *

_  
"What happened?" Narcissa asked, now seated on her couch and sipping a glass of wine. Draco, similarly provided, was lying alongside her, resting his head in her lap... but his eyes never left the dark figure standing by the mantelpiece, sipping from a tumbler of Lucius Malfoy's best cognac._

_"It went as it was no doubt planned to," said Severus. "Draco found a way to let the Death Eaters in, a Dark Mark was place d at the top of the tower, and the trap baited. Alb- Headmaster Dumbledore swallowed the bait and Draco had him cornered and disarmed at the top of the tower."_

_Narcissa tightened her grip on her son's shoulder. "Did he-?"_

_"No," Severus replied, thin-lipped. "I told you, I kept the Vow. It was my wand felled him in the end."_

_Draco felt his mother's hand relax as she began stroking his hair._

_"So. My son is safe then."_

_"This time," said Severus. "But don't think the Dark Lord won't seek to test him again. Draco did well in finding a way into the school, and he did have the Headmaster cornered and vulnerable. He did well enough to avoid punishment. But not well enough to win the Dark Lord's favour. Mark my words, there will be another time. And next time, I will not be there to fight his battles for him. I'm making no more vows for you, Narcissa. This one has cost me enough." Closing his eyes, Severus knocked back his cognac, barely wincing as the liquid began to burn._

_Next time... there would be a next time. And a time after that and a time after that, until Draco's luck and skill ran out and he finally either got himself killed or the Dark Lord decided he'd had enough. The only other option was walking away from the Dark Lord's service, but family history ruled that one out. Draco knew all too well of Regulus Black's fate, and he had no illusions that Aunt Bellatrix wouldn't be leading the mob if he did the same. And with Dumbledore dead, there was no longer any chance of assistance from the Order. Draco Malfoy was on his own._

_Shrugging his mother's arm away, Draco got unsteadily to his feet._

_"I think I might go to bed," said Draco. "I think I could do with some sleep. It's been a tiring evening. Goodnight, Mother." He kissed her on the cheek before bidding goodnight to his former House Head, and retreating to the sanctuary of his bedroom.  
_

* * *

When Draco finally emerged from the bathroom, clad now only in a green dressing gown after a shower that had utterly failed to wash him clean where it mattered, it was all he could do not to sink to his knees and cry. All that was stopping him was years of conditioning and a vague refusal to give the Dark Lord the satisfaction of breaking him.

Collapsing on the bed with its vermilion sheets, incongruous for a Slytherin's bedchamber, Draco caught sight of the mask lying on the table next to him. A plain white mask of the kind typically worn by the Death Eaters when they went out to fight. His father's mask. His now, unless Lucius by some miracle managed to escape not only Azkaban but the Dark Lord's wrath.

_Go to hell, Father. You've already sent me there._ He cast the mask aside, not wanting it near him. He'd only ever had cause to wear it once; at his Marking.  
_  
"Master," Bellatrix Lestrange said breathlessly as she curtsied before the Dark Lord. "May I present to you my nephew, Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa of the House of Black? For he is supportive of our cause and wishes to pledge himself to your service."_

_Voldemort nodded as if he had not known what she was going to ask him. "Very well. Bring him to me." _

_Bellatrix bowed and nodded, before turning and clapping her hands. The circle of gathered followers parted, and Draco, clad in the plain black robes of a Death Eater, walked to where his aunt was waiting. Without needing to be told, he dropped to his knees, head lowered, not meeting Voldemort's eyes. Bellatrix had schooled him intensively on how to approach the Dark Lord._

_"Well now. Young Draco, is it not?" There was a note of amusement in Voldemort's voice which Draco didn't like one bit._

_"Yes, sir," he said, still staring at the ground._

_"Indeed. Your aunt has spoken highly of you... and your Head of House has also reported good things about you." He indicated the masked, dark-robed figure at his left-hand side. Snape, for it was he, simply nodded in acknowledgement. "So. Draco Malfoy. What would you ask of me?"_

_"I wish to serve you, my Lord."_

_"I see. And why would that be?"_

_Draco faltered, glancing at his aunt for help. She glared back in annoyance. It seemed he was on his own here._

_"Because... because of the Muggles and Mudbloods, sir. They're everywhere. They're taking over the whole country, sir. And the Ministry says that we have to just sit back and let them. And I don't think that's right. Sir."_

_"And so you wish to enter my service, and presumably rectify this sad state of affairs," said Voldemort. "Most interesting. Is there anything else you wish to add?"_

_Draco took a deep breath and continued. This was going to be the difficult part �" bringing up his father's failings._

_"My father... my father has been a follower of yours, and it was- is his dearest wish that I follow in his footsteps."_

_"Follow in his footsteps." The air of near-geniality that had permeated Voldemort's voice thus far had abruptly disappeared. "I see. Draco, you are of course aware that your father's footsteps have currently led him to a cell in Azkaban after an operation which, thanks to his inspired leadership, achieved none of the objectives I had in mind?"_

_"Yes, sir," said Draco through gritted teeth._

_"And that through his petty political machinations, a magical artefact most dear to me was destroyed and rendered useless?"_

_"Yes, sir," said Draco softly. "And that is why I wish to serve you, sir. I... am aware that my father has not served you as well as he could have. And... I would like very much to enter your service and make amends, sir."_

_"Indeed. But how, Draco, can I be sure you will not fail me as your father has done? I do not tolerate failure!" Draco found his face tilted backwards by a single bony finger under his chin, leaving him staring into a pair of red eyes that none of his aunt's training could have prepared him for. All Draco's bravado drained out of him as he stared into them, paralysed under that horrific stare that seemed to be unmasking the entire contents of his mind. After what felt like an eternity, Voldemort finally let him go._

_"Well, Draco, it seems your motives are pure enough. And you hate the Potter boy with an intensity bordering on obsession �" this is to be welcomed. But you are still unproven, and your father's legacy is one which will take a lot of living down. I have a mission, Draco, a dark and dangerous mission that needs carrying out before we can sweep to the victory that should be ours by rights. I was going to give it to Severus, but if you truly wish to restore your family name..."_

_"Yes. Yes, I do. I'll do anything, sir," said Draco, quietly crushing the little voice of warning in the back of his mind._

_"Anything?" Voldemort's smile was not encouraging, but Draco was too desperate to see it._

_"Anything," Draco promised._

_"Excellent," Voldemort laughed. "In that case, if you accept and successfully complete this mission, I am minded to accept you into my service as a Death Eater."_

_"Yes, sir," Draco breathed. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."_

_"For your sake, I hope not. But before we discuss the specifics, there is a little... formality... to be got through first. Hold out your left arm and pull your sleeve back."_

_Draco had done as he asked, only to have his world descend into an abyss of pain as the Marking began.   
_

* * *

And nothing had ever been safe or simple for him ever again. Ever since, he'd been living in what could be accurately described as hell. From the moment the searing agony of the Dark Mark burning itself into his arm had begun, he'd become little more than a slave, his life no longer his own.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" he whispered to the empty room. "One way or another. If the Aurors don't get me, He will." Die, or die horribly. Some choice.

_I want my life back. _

It was never going to happen, and Draco knew it. But if he couldn't have his life back... maybe he could at least end it in the manner of his choosing. Voldemort might have his life, but damned if he was going to have Draco's death as well.

"_Accio_ poison," he whispered. A drawer by his bed shot open, and a small, dark bottle flew into his hand. It was left over from his botched attempt to poison Dumbledore's mead. Juggling the vial in one hand, he picked up a piece of parchment and his Dicta-Quill with the other, setting the quill into its writing position.

"See you in hell, Father," Draco rasped, before ripping the lid off the vial with his teeth and carelessly draining the contents. He sank back on to the bed as the poison slipped down his throat, deceptively soothing in its journey down. It was starting to work already. Draco could practically feel the world starting to dim as his pupils shrank and the edges of his vision started to go dark. He barely even noticed the trickle of blood-red liquid trailing out of the corner of his mouth and down his cheek, staining the sheets as it did so. He was already giving in to the seductive siren call of the poison, letting it lull him to a sleep with no waking. Without even thinking, he let one hand trail downwards, tracing a path to where his erect cock was waiting, fingertips tracing its length as the peaceful haze of the potion took hold, adding that extra edge of pleasure.

_I had no idea death could be so simple._ The only death he'd seen had been anything but, for him at least. Images flashed before him as his mind concentrated on what meant the most while thought was still left to it. Images of his father laughing, still free, powerful and at the top of his game. Of his mother, younger and beautiful without looking like she had to work at it. Of a pair of vivid green eyes that for Draco were hate and obsession and underneath it all a certain respect. Of a pair of jet black eyes that had always at least tried to look out for Draco, yes, he could see that now, could see that his old teacher had been a guardian, not a rival. _I'm sorry, Professor. I'm sorry I let you down. Please, look after Mother for me, she has no one else now._ He did not for one moment believe that Aunt Bellatrix would prove to be any kind of support for her.

And then he finally seemed to see a pair of glowing red eyes in a face that was little more than skin over skull these days, eyes glaring at him and taunting him... until they realised what he was doing. _Goodbye, Voldemort,_ Draco thought as consciousness slipped away. _Malfoys don't make good slaves._ For a moment, he fancied he could almost hear Voldemort howling in rage as Draco's soul slipped through his fingers. Then the poison took hold, and Draco could hear no more.  


* * *

  
Trauma, they said later, as the undertaker came to collect the body. Draco had always been a very sensitive child, and it appeared the stress of seeing Death Eaters invade the school and kill the Headmaster had tipped him over the edge. Indeed, looking back, even Headmistress McGonagall had to admit that Draco had been far more withdrawn than usual that year. Evidently the stress of NEWT-level study and a nervous reaction to trauma had pushed the poor boy over the edge. None of which was any comfort to the boy's devastated parents, of course. But in private, both were relieved that the Dark Mark disappeared when one died.

After the funeral, when the mourners had gone, and the wake was over, and Lucius had been carted back to Azkaban, Severus finally emerged from the hiding place Narcissa had secured for him. Without a word, he opened his arms to the grief-stricken witch and held her as she howled into his chest, tears pouring down her face. They remained like that for some time, until finally she dried her eyes and looked up at him.

"We killed him, didn't we," she whispered. "Me, Lucius, Bella, the Dark Lord. We all drove him to this."

Severus did not answer her, continuing to stroke her hair almost mechanically as he stared into the fire.

"We killed him," Narcissa repeated, her voice hollow. "My son, my baby, my little dragon. It's our fault, all our fault." She looked up at Severus, hoping, although not expecting, to find some comfort there. "Is it worth it? Is this cause worth losing my son?"

"Do you think it is worth it?" Severus replied, giving nothing away.

"I am no longer sure," Narcissa whispered, breaking away and sinking on to her couch. Severus raised an eyebrow, before coming to stand behind her and squeezing her shoulder.

"If you really desire an end to all this... there is another way," he said quietly.

"Another way?" Narcissa frowned, turning to glance up at him. "What do you mean?"

"You do not bear the Mark," said Severus softly. "You have sworn no vows to either side. True, your sister and husband are Death Eaters, but you have not always seen eye to eye with Bellatrix, and Lucius is in Azkaban. Neither is your keeper, Narcissa, and Malfoy Manor is a veritable fortress should you wish it to be."

"What are you saying, Severus?" Narcissa whispered. Severus moved around the couch to kneel in front of her, taking her hand in his as his eyes gazed into hers.

"Listen to me, Narcissa, and listen carefully," he said. "I will not be able to speak so plainly in future. If you wish to abandon the Dark Lord's side, do so. No," he cut her off, placing a finger to her lips. "Don't argue. Listen. If you want to, you can do this. In Albus's absence, the Order of the Phoenix will be jointly headed by Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin. Of the three, Lupin is the one most likely to listen to you. You also have your own niece, Nymphadora, as a member. Both her parents are Order sympathisers, although not actual members. It is not too late to build bridges with Andromeda �" after your recent bereavement, I think she will be prepared to be charitable. Go to any one of those and offer your services. At the very least, they will help you go into hiding. And if their mercy does not stretch that far, I believe that Malfoy money and the Black family name and connections at their disposal might well win them over. And if that is not enough, certain... trinkets... of the Dark Lord's that I know you know the locations of will seal the bargain. The Potter boy will know their significance, if you tell him that the Dark Lord values them more than his own soul."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Narcissa whispered, horrified. Could Severus Snape, right-hand man of the Dark Lord himself, really be encouraging her to turn her back on everything her family stood for and betray the entire Death Eater cause? Her eyes narrowed. "Is this some kind of test of my loyalty? Did the Dark Lord tell you to do this?"

Severus shook his head. "The Dark Lord knows nothing of this. He can know nothing of this. Narcissa, the choice is yours to make. But you do have one."

"I think you had better go," said Narcissa faintly, feeling close to snapping. Severus nodded once, and did so, giving her one last look before sweeping out of the room. Narcissa reached for a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass, staring into the fire as if it held the answer to all her questions. She stayed that way for a very long time.  


* * *

  
The following morning, Andromeda Tonks _née_ Black was surprised, to say the least, when her sister turned up on her doorstep.

"Well," said Andromeda tartly. "I didn't expect to have a visit from you."

"Droma," said Narcissa, her voice soft and hesitant. "It's been a while."

Andromeda raised an eyebrow at the use of the childhood nickname. "Good lord, Cissa, that's an understatement if ever I heard one. You've not even acknowledged my existence for over twenty years. What's happened to change your mind?"

Narcissa put a hand to her mouth, fighting back tears and the vision of her beautiful boy lying dead by his own hand.

"My son is dead, Droma," she whispered, tears starting to fall despite her best efforts at preventing them. "My son is dead, my husband is in prison, my sister �" _our_ sister �" is a homicidal maniac, and I have no one else left to turn to!" Her voice cracked on the last sentence, but she kept her composure, barely. Andromeda watched, inwardly feeling her resolve start to soften. She'd always had a soft spot for her baby sister, and truth be told, she felt similar fears every time Nymphadora went to work.

"I need your help," said Narcissa softly. "I know your daughter is in the Order. I know she's seeing Remus Lupin. I need to meet with him and Harry Potter."

Andromeda felt her sympathy begin to ebb. She should have known something like this was coming.

"And what would one of you want with the Chosen One? Nothing good, I'll be bound."

Narcissa shook her head. "This isn't a trap!" she cried. "The Dark Lord �" the others don't know I'm here. Droma, my son is dead because of him. I have lost my husband and my good name because of him." She pulled back her sleeve to reveal a left arm untainted and unmarked. "I don't bear his Mark, Droma. I'm not his, not yet. And... he's done my family enough harm. I want to help, Droma. I really do. I have money, I have favours owing, I know people, there's things I can do if they'll have me. And... I have some information that Potter in particular might be very interested in. Look, I'll even give you my wand. I'll come inside your front room and meet with them here, on safe ground that I can't possibly have done anything to. Droma, I'm sorry, I was wrong, I've been a fool, sister, forgive me?"

Andromeda stared at Narcissa, then the outstretched wand held towards her, handle first. She said nothing for some time, and Narcissa began to wonder if this had been such a good idea. Then Andromeda reached out, took the wand from her and pocketed it.

"Don't just stand there then, Cissa," she said, as if she'd invited her sister over for nothing more complicated than tea and scones. "Come inside and make yourself comfortable. The kettle's just boiled if you'd like something to drink."

"That would be wonderful," said Narcissa, finally smiling, albeit nervously. And as she followed her sister inside, the conjoined Houses of Black and Malfoy finally saw their entire belief structure collapse and fall like so much sand on a windswept beach, as more than the Malfoy scion passed away.


End file.
